


those things’ll kill you.

by abovethethroat



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cigarettes, Drug Addiction, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Past Drug Addiction, Smoking, i don’t really know what to tag this as if i’m honest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 02:37:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16031234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abovethethroat/pseuds/abovethethroat
Summary: sometimes it’s either that or a meltdown.





	those things’ll kill you.

Sherlock doesn’t smoke. At least not officially. If he sometimes sneaks a cigarette every now-and-then when John’s at work, then no one needs to know. Of course he knows it’s bad for you, but sometimes it’s either that or a meltdown. When the nights are long and exhausting during cases and the fluorescent lighting in the lab seems to flicker and buzz, he doesn’t have much of a choice, really. Sherlock doesn’t bother asking John for the odd cigarette since Baskerville, he knows the answer will be  _ uh-. No.  _

 

Instead, he keeps a pack hidden behind the glass beakers on the kitchen shelf, knowing that his flatmate wouldn’t dare touch anything near that area. He usually smokes behind Mrs Hudson’s bins in the back, knowing exactly how often she tends to take out the garbage. 

 

Lestrade has taken up the habit again as well, he knows. Giles  _ (is it Giles?)  _ isn’t shy about it, either. He goes out to smoke during shift breaks, and Sherlock even joins him sometimes whenever John can’t come with to the station. Lestrade gets it. Since Sherlock’s return after the fall, those wrinkles seem to have deepened, the stress and grief of losing a close friend and almost-colleague to suicide being a heavy burden to bear. 

 

“Why did you start again?” Sherlock asks him one rainy afternoon, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “You were doing alright for years.” He thinks he already knows the answer, but some part of him needs to hear it anyway.  

 

“The smoking, you mean?”

 

He rolls his eyes, for show. “Obviously.”

 

“Truth is that things got harder after you d-.  _ Left. _ For all of us. And we all had different ways of dealing with things. Philip took it the hardest, as you know.” Sherlock nods and gives a  _ hmm.  _ “He wasn’t capable of working for a long time. And Sally, she won’t ever admit it, but she cares more than she lets on. I started smoking and taking on a bigger caseload.”

 

Sherlock clears his throat.  _ I have to say it. I don’t know how, but I’m supposed to.  _ “Um. Lestrade. Gi-. Greg. There’s...something- something I should say. It seems to be considered bad manners in situations like these to not issue an apology. I, myself can not seem to fathom why people feel the need to voice their feelings openly, nor why it is standard practice  _ at all _ , but pedestrian as that may be, I do not seem to be above this rule. As a result, I need to-”

 

“Mate.” Greg interrupts. The detective takes a well-needed breath. “I get it, you’re sorry that you had to make us believe you were dead in order to take down the big net of a master criminal. Feelings are hard for you.  _ It’s alright. _ ”

  
  



End file.
